


Mon Ange

by gastonlegume



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Depression, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Medication, Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-09
Updated: 2014-09-09
Packaged: 2018-02-16 18:35:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2280366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gastonlegume/pseuds/gastonlegume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire deals with depression and suicidal thoughts, and Montparnasse tries his best to help<br/>But sometimes one's best is not enough</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mon Ange

**Author's Note:**

> oh god i'm so sorry i tried my best i hope you like it  
> i tried my best to write this nicely i'm sorry

 Grantaire swallowed the pills and sat down on the couch. He sighed and turned his body slowly, so he would be lying on the sofa. The medication was starting to take effect; Grantaire was already starting to see the ceiling more as a blurred grey thing. He closed his eyes and waited for the effect to complete, and for him to drift into a sleep without dreams.

 The nights before had been hard for him. All he dreamt of was his father and his childhood. He'd always wake up sweating, and crying, cursing himself.

 The most recent dream, or nightmare as it was for him, had been about when Grantaire was around 12 years old. He had just arrived home and was going to greet his mother, with a smile on his bruised face. When he walked into the kitchen, though, his heart fell to his feet. His mother, his beautiful, caring, lovely mother, dead. Lying on the kitchen floor, messing the tiles with blood. He had shouted, before running towards her corpse and hugging her, crying his heart out.

 Grantaire opened his eyes at the memory and blinked at the ceiling. "Shit," he murmured. Dizziness. Of course. It _was_ in the 'side effects' part of the brochure.

 He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and tried to fall asleep, succeeding in a short time.

 

 He later woke up to the sound of the bedroom's door being open. "Mont'?"

 "Yes, it is I."

 Grantaire smiled slightly. "Why am I in the bedroom? I thought I'd fallen asleep in the couch."

 "You did. I just brought you here so the bed wouldn't be cold, and neither would you."

 Montparnasse kissed him lightly in the forehead, getting a hiss in reply. He stepped back and frowned at a small swell in Grantaire's forehead. It was clearly a bruise, he'd realised that after the dark purple colour. "When did you do this?"

 "Do what?"

 "The bruise, Louis."

 "I don't remember," he shrugged.

 "And _how_ did you do it?"

 Grantaire stared at Montparnasse for a while before replying with an "I fell."

 "You fell? Where?" 

 "The stairs," Grantaire answered, longingly.

 "Hm. Of course," he sat down on the bed, next to Grantaire.

 Grantaire eyed Montparnasse, turning around in bed so he'd be facing him.

 "You don't have to lie to me."

 "I'm not lying."

 "You just lied!"

 "I wasn't lying!"

 "The stairs? You really think I'm going to buy it?"

 "It's true!"

 "You always use the lift!"

 "Well, maybe _this_ time I wanted to use the stairs!"

 "Louis," Montparnasse sighed, in a slightly sad tone.

 Grantaire let out a breath and moved to rest his head in Montparnasse's thigh. "I'm sorry."

 "How did you do it, _mon ange_?," Montparnasse asked, running his fingers through Grantaire's hair.

 Grantaire shrugged. "I hit my head against the wall after I forgot to feed the cat."

 "Can you tell me why?"

 Grantaire blinked away some tears. "You know what I'm going to say," he let out a breathy laugh.

 "No, I don't."

 "It's because I deserve it."

 Montparnasse sighed, and moved his hand from Grantaire's curls to the right corner of his eye, wiping the tears. "That's a lie. You're a liar."

 "No, I'm not!"

 "You were lying before and you're lying now. You, sir, are a liar."

 Grantaire smiled. "I'm not lying though."

 "Yes, you are."

 Grantaire adjusted himself, and sighed. "What would you do if I died, Mont'?"

 Montparnasse stammered for a while. "Why are you asking me this?"

 "Curiosity."

 "I don't know. It's such a... _macabre_ question. It makes me wonder what you'll do-"

 "I'm just _wondering_ , Montparnasse, all right?"

 "I know, _mon ange_ , but... never mind."

 "Will you tell me then?"

 Montparnasse sighed, and ran a hand through Grantaire's hair. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Louis. I just don't. You improved my life in so many ways. And just _thinking_ about being without you, it... _hurts_. Because I love you so much, I'd lost my way if you died. I think... I'd die too."

 Grantaire smiled and sat up, facing Montparnasse. "I really love you."

 "Good," Montparnasse replied before kissing him softly.

 Grantaire sighed and buried his face in Montparnasse's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I know I'm not the greatest boyfriend, and I know I probably make you sad and frustrated all the time because I can't be saved or helped, and-"

 "First of all, you're like, the _greatest_ boyfriend in the _world_ , and you _can_ be saved and helped. Okay?"

 Grantaire moved his arms to slowly hug Montparnasse. "Thank you," he sobbed.

 "You don't have to thank me, you know that, don't you?" Montparnasse whispered, hugging him back.

 "Yes I do," Grantaire moved away and sat on the covers. "I mean, you've done so much for me, and the minimum I can do is thank you."

 "No, it's not. You don't need, or have to, do anything to thank me for helping you. It's my duty to do so," he said, cupping Grantaire's face in his hands. "I don't need a repayment, Louis."

 Grantaire smiled slightly. "You're too kind. I don't really deserve you."

 "Yes, you do. You deserve so much. Happiness, in first place. And hope, and care, and love-"

 Grantaire interrupted him with a bitter laugh. "If only my father were here to hear that."

 Montparnasse sighed. "Your father had no right to say those awful lies. That's what they are, _lies_.”

 "Mont'-"

 "If you're going to start with the whole 'you don't have to lie to me, Luc' thing, then you better shut up because I'm _not_ lying."

 Grantaire smiled sadly. "You're incredible."

 "And you need a bath," he replied, making Grantaire laugh. "I'll prepare you a nice warm bath to keep that pretty smile in your face, all right?"

 Grantaire smiled and nodded.

 Montparnasse kissed his forehead, and headed towards the door.

 "Will you bath with me, sir?"

 Montparnasse stopped by the door, and turned in his heels. "Maybe. Possibly. Most likely."

 "I'll be happier," Grantaire said, turning around to face Montparnasse.

 "Then, yes, definitely."

 "Thank you," Grantaire smiled.

 In few minutes, the bath was ready, and Montparnasse was calling Grantaire from the bathroom. He sighed, and walked towards the room, where Montparnasse was already getting rid of his clothes. "Hey, do you need help?"

 "I can undress myself, you know?"

 Montparnasse clenched his jaw. "I know it's just... you know."

 "Yeah."

 "So," Montparnasse walked towards Grantaire and unbuttoned his shirt. "Mind if I help you?"

 "Of course not," he smiled, closing his eyes.

 He had a hatred for his body not even the greatest writer could describe. He hated every inch of it with a burning passion. He hated how full of scars and bruises it was. How _filthy_ it was. If he'd look at it, he'd feel disgusted. That's why he didn't own any mirrors. If he had, he'd break them. So his hair was always messy, his scruff always there. It wasn't because of laziness or the fact he was hurrying. It was because he hated, _hated_ his face, his eyes, his nose, his mouth, his everything. And he'd feel the need to throw up and cry if he saw it.

 "Okay it's done," Montparnasse said, kissing his cheek lightly.

 "Can you lead me to the bath?, I don't want to look."

 Montparnasse sighed, "Of course."

 He helped Grantaire, who still had his eyes closed, into the water, or better, the bubbles - Montparnasse only made bubble baths for Grantaire, because of the same reason Grantaire didn't have his eyes open.

 "Okay you're in, _mon ange_."

 Grantaire opened his eyes and smiled at Montparnasse. He smiled back, smiling at how beautiful Grantaire was. How he had the loveliest tattoos covering half his body. His smile dropped at remembering Grantaire had uncoloured parts of his body, and that he 'decorated' them himself, with wounds and bruises.

 He sighed, and stepped on the water, sitting in front of him.

 He leant in to kiss Grantaire but stopped just as their lips met. "I love you," he whispered before kissing him longingly and softly.

 Grantaire parted away and smiled at Montparnasse.

 "I love your smile," Montparnasse said, smiling as well.

 "Mind if you wash me? You know, because of..."

 "I know, _mon ange_ ," he replied, getting a sponge and the bottle of body gel.

 "Why do you call me that?," Grantaire asked, as Montparnasse began to wash his chest. "I'm not an angel."

 "You're _my_ angel. Because you saved me. And you're radiant and beautiful just like an angel."

 Grantaire laughed, "I'm not beautiful. I'm disgusting."

 "You're not disgusting, _chéri_."

 "I am. My body is awful. It's as a punching bag. A human punching bag. Full of bruises and scars. Most of them done by myself.

 "I love you, Louis. I wouldn't love you if you were disgusting. You're not. You're beautiful and lovely, and I wish I could make you see and realise that," Montparnasse said, looking up from the wounds in Grantaire's arm to his face.

 "I love you," Grantaire said quietly.

 "I love you too," Montparnasse replied, going back to washing Grantaire's body.

 He finished after some minutes of silence, and of Grantaire looking at Montparnasse and smiling at how beautiful he looked.

 Montparnasse sighed and rested his head in Grantaire's chest, listening to the soothing beating of his heart. "You know, _mon ange_ , I don't know what I'd do if one day I rested my head here and your heart wasn't beating."

 Grantaire didn't reply, he simply wrapped an arm around Montparnasse, who smiled and relaxed against the touch.


End file.
